Unraveled
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Baced on Once Upon a Midnight Dreary. "The sad truth was that Thomas simply missed Newt, emotionally, but mostly physically. He was neglected. And Newt felt like a shitty person for doing the neglecting."


-Unraveled-

-Hey, lovely readers! Here I am, writing Newtmas for only the second time ever. This is based on Touch Starved from Once Upon a Midnight Dreary, written by Akira-sun. Thank you very much for letting me continue that little one-shot into this story. I hope I did your ideas justice and that you enjoy Unraveled :)

The usual warning: this is rated M because of a certain scene involving Thomas, Newt, and a kitchen counter. You don't like it, don't read it. I don't get very graphic though, so it should be fine.

Reviews are, as always, welcome and very appreciated. Just don't be rude, ya shanks.

Hope you like it! :)-

Newt wasn't sure what he was expecting while he waited outside Alby's front door. Sure, he'd gotten that awful phone call from his friend a while ago, but it hasn't explained exactly what kind of state Thomas was in at the moment. All he knew was that his boyfriend had shown up at Alby's place, in tears, and without any explanation, had collapsed onto the couch next to a very irritated Minho. He was currently crying his eyes out at the moment. What a lovely night indeed.

It wasn't that Newt had meant to make Thomas fall apart like this. The two had just been very busy lately, with Newt handling paintings for his newer clients and Thomas left behind. They hadn't spoken properly for quite some time. They certainly hadn't touched, missing the usual brushes of a hand on Thomas's back or the soft, goodbye kisses that normally occurred before work in the morning. And if they hadn't touched, well, one can assume that they absolutely hadn't had sex during that time either. The sad truth was that Thomas simply missed Newt, emotionally, but mostly physically. He was neglected. And Newt felt like a shitty person for doing the neglecting.

The front door suddenly swung open at that moment. Newt found himself face to face with Alby. Alby took one look at Newt and heaved a long sigh of relief. "Thank GOD you're here," he said, gesturing to Newt with one hand. He looked tired in a white tee and sweatpants, like he hadn't been planning on having any visitors before Thomas barged in. "About time you showed up, Newt. Thomas is a mess."

Newt felt a prick of pain in his heart. He leaned to try and peer over Alby's shoulder into the house. "Where is he? How's he doing?"

"He's crying into Minho's shoulder and I think Minho's about to punch his face in," Alby deadpanned in reply. From inside, as if on cue, a choked sob came from the living room. It was followed by a grumble of complaint from who could only be Minho.

Newt grimaced guiltily. "I feel awful," he admitted.

"You should," Alby quipped unsympathetically. "I thought I'd have the house and MY BOYFRIEND to myself tonight. And then I get a trainwreck in the form of Thomas."

"Gee, thanks for cheering me up."

"You're welcome, shank."

Newt rolled his eyes at Alby's comeback, and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. He just wanted to get Thomas and go home. He glanced at Alby, trying to show his regret for making this happen in his eyes. "So, is he...ready to come home?" he asked tentatively.

Alby softened a bit and nodded once. He stepped to the side to call into the house. "Thomas! Newt's here for you, man!"

They waited a bit, both of them a little tense as they prepared for the sight of Thomas. Newt was feeling more and more like a horrible person as the seconds ticked by. How could he have done this to Thomas? How could he not notice how lonely he'd been feeling all this time? He vowed to make it up to him somehow.

The sound of feet shuffling over the carpeted floor came, and Alby took another step back to make room by the door. Thomas padded into view, arms wrapped around himself in that way crying people did sometimes, as though he was cold. Newt's heart broke when he saw him. Thomas's normally-soft, brown hair was tousled, like he'd raked his hands through it. His mahogany eyes were shadowed and ringed in red from sobs. He wore a black T-shirt, rumpled from curling up on the couch. And when he raised his eyes to Newt, he flushed self-consciously and his shoulders trembled.

Newt's shoulders sagged. "Tommy," he said brokenly, and Thomas shakily crossed the threshold to let Newt pull him into an embrace. It wasn't exactly a hug, because they were both aware of Alby's presence and Thomas was still hugging himself like he might unravel. But Newt felt the warmth of Thomas's body pressed to his for the first time in God-knew-how-long. Thomas shivered once.

"Sorry I'm such a wreck," Thomas mumbled into Newt's shoulder. His voice was hoarse and small.

Newt rubbed his back soothingly. "It's fine," he murmured. "It's fine. I'm here." Thomas relaxed at the words. Newt spoke over his shoulder to Alby, craning his neck. "I'm gonna take him home now, okay? Thanks for looking after him, Alby. Tell Minho I said thanks too."

Alby raised his hands in a no-problem gesture. "Just don't let it happen again, you idiot," he advised, but a half-smile pulled at his lips. He waved once in farewell. "See ya, Newt."

Newt smiled gratefully at Alby. He was glad that he had a friend like him. Then he turned away, moving so that one arm was still around Thomas. He kept it that way as they walked out to the car together. The band of light from the front door thinned as they neared the car. It disappeared entirely when they reached it, leaving them in the dusky glow of evening. After receiving a wobbly smile from Thomas, Newt left him to get in the passenger side while he rounded the car to get to his seat.

His mind was already reeling, trying to think of a way he could make Thomas feel better. A night out maybe? Or a movie at home? Thomas loved to curl up together and watch some sappy movie on TV. They'd make fun of the characters and insist that real love stories were ever like that. But then Newt remembered something Alby had said, something about how Thomas was "starved" for Newt's attention, his touch. Newt actually blushed when the thought occurred to him: maybe all they needed was a night together, to be alone for the first time in a while, and...

He shook his head to banish such thoughts. He'd figure it out when they got home.

-o-o-o-

The house was dark when they arrived. Night was beginning to gather outside, lengthening the shadows thrown by trees and other looming houses. Everything took on a ghostly sheen as the full moon rose, caressing the grass and pavement with silvery fingers. Inside the house, Newt couldn't suppress a little shudder. The walls were cloaked in dimness, the furniture made into black shapes. He closed the front door softly behind him and fumbled for the light switch. There was a tiny moment where all he could see was blue-black space, and all he heard was Thomas's breaths beside him. Then he found the switch and flicked it upward; the room blazed into golden lamplight, bathing the couch and carpet in yellow-orange. Newt breathed a discreet sigh of relief.

Both of them leaned back against the door for a long moment. Silence hung between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly. It was just a sharing of a quiet minute, both of them aware of the other's presence beside them. Newt rested his head against the door and glanced over at Thomas. A smile tugged the corner of his mouth up. "Hey," he said quietly.

Thomas met his gaze, the weariness of crying lingering in his expression. But he still managed a crooked smile. "Hey."

"You wanna watch a movie or something?" Newt asked.

"Yeah, okay," Thomas replied, brightening at that. "What movie?"

Newt snickered at the hope in Thomas's face; he knew exactly which movie he wanted to watch, because it was the most romantic one they had. Plus, it had a hot artist in it that reminded Thomas of Newt. "Titanic?" he suggested innocently.

"Sure!" Thomas was grinning now. Newt felt his heart swell. God, Thomas looked so happy, and beautiful, and heartbreaking. Like a kid who'd just broken their leg, but got a favorite toy for Christmas. "Just let me make popcorn first. I need food." With that, Thomas set out toward the kitchen. Newt blinked, then followed close behind.

In the kitchen, Thomas flicked on the lights, illuminating steel appliances and the stovetop at the back wall. He walked in socked feet over the hardwood floor to a drawer; pulling it open, he fished around for popcorn. He didn't notice Newt behind him.

Newt rested his shoulder against the doorframe and slung his thumbs in his pockets. His eyes were following every movement Thomas made. He couldn't help it. Now that he knew that Thomas had been aching to touch him for days, he felt the same way. He admired the flex of muscle in Thomas's back, showing under his T-shirt when he moved. His gaze fixed on the way Thomas's fawn-colored hair flopped across his eyes when he looked down to read the popcorn's packaging. And he was utterly caught in how the brunette snagged his bottom lip with his teeth when he thought.

"I'm sorry."

The words were out before Newt even realized he said them. Thomas glanced up at him in surprise. "For what?"

Newt shifted his feet over the floor. "For making you feel alone all this time," he explained. "For not noticing you when I should have."

Thomas's expression changed to one of sympathy. "It's okay, Newt. Really, it is," he added, at Newt's disbelieving frown. "I was sad, that's all. I started thinking about you, and how we're busy all the time, and I cried for the dumbest reasons. I was just...being a wimp."

Newt's heart twisted painfully in his chest. "None of your reasons for crying were dumb," he said softly. He saw Thomas turn back to the popcorn, saw the way he denied it. He pushed off the wall and took a few steps closer. "I missed you too, Thomas."

His voice had switched to a different tone then, making Thomas turn his attention back to Newt. He was frozen in place, as the blonde neared him. "I thought you were too caught up in work to even think of me," he confessed.

Newt was still moving closer. "I thought of you every day."

"Newt..."

"I wouldn't lie about this."

Newt was in front of Thomas now, causing the other boy to face him with the marble counter at his back. Cautiously, Newt placed his hands on the counter, pinning Thomas between them without touching him. Thomas released a sharp exhale. "I thought you w—wanted to watch a movie," he stammered dazedly.

"I want you." Newt said it gazing directly into Thomas's eyes. He saw the brunette shiver. With deliberate slowness, he angled his head and lowered his mouth onto Thomas's.

It had been too long.

That much was certain. It had been much too long since they'd touched, since they'd kissed, since they'd made love. Newt knew it as soon as he tasted Thomas's lips under his. It was like being hypersensitive to every small brush of skin. Thomas whimpered into Newt's mouth and in the next second, he was kissing back hungrily. Newt felt fingers slide into his hair and electricity danced down his spine. He kissed Thomas as though he'd been drowning and this was his first gasp of air. They were heated, smoldering.

Newt's palms hurt from leaning against the counter's edge, so he moved them to Thomas's waist instead. Breaking the kiss, he ducked to press his mouth to Thomas's neck. He sank his teeth into the smooth skin without breaking it, then ran his tongue over the bite. A sharp gasp tore from Thomas's throat. He tightened his desperate hold on Newt's hair. Newt traced a burning line back to Thomas's ear with tongue and teeth. "You're so beautiful," he whispered reverently, before catching Thomas's earlobe between his teeth.

"God, N—Newt," Thomas choked out in reply. His shaking hands dropped to the hem of Newt's shirt and knotted themselves in the fabric. Tentatively, as though he was asking permission, he peeled Newt's shirt up his body. Newt raised his arms briefly to get it over his head and as soon as it was gone, he was holding Thomas again.

Thomas ran his fingertips lightly over Newt's chest, down the leanly defined muscle of his stomach. A shudder tightened Newt's skin. He was kissing Thomas again before he could stop himself, unrelenting and mindless. His own hands were ripping Thomas's shirt up and off without him realizing it. Looping his arms around Thomas's neck, he crushed their bodies flush against each other. Muscle and skin rippled against him. Breathless, Newt gave Thomas's lower lip a little lick. He heard Thomas's small sound of pleasure and almost smirked triumphantly.

"Bed," he breathed huskily, hooking his fingers into Thomas's belt loops. He started to pull Thomas with him, but was stopped by his boyfriend's grip on his hips.

"I need you now," Thomas managed. He backed Newt up until the blonde's back was against the kitchen island in the center of the room.

Newt's eyes widened as Thomas started to unbuckle his belt. "Here?" he asked, trying to think straight as his boyfriend's fingers got his belt open and started on his jeans. The very thought of having sex on top of a marble island made his pulse race. They'd only done that once before; Thomas and Newt were the kind of couple that weren't overly adventurous when it came to these things. But they could definitely become more adventurous if it meant Newt got hot sex on a kitchen table.

Thomas pushed Newt's jeans down to his knees. Then he closed his hands over Newt's hips and lifted him onto the edge of the island. Newt's lungs couldn't seem to work properly anymore. He was breathless when he shoved his jeans off the rest of the way and grabbed Thomas by the waistband. Hauling the brunette between his knees, Newt hooked his ankles together behind Thomas's legs to keep him in place. "Dammit, Thomas," he growled, as his fingers fumbled to get Thomas's pants undone.

Thomas cupped Newt's jaw and kissed him hard, which made it even more difficult for Newt to get his damn pants off. Roughly, Thomas sucked on Newt's bottom lip, and Newt moaned. He felt Thomas's hands take over, undoing and then slipping off his jeans. Then the brunette took Newt by the shoulders and eased him back onto the island. As soon as Newt's back met the cool surface, Thomas on top of him, holding himself over the blonde. He bent down to kiss Newt's collarbone, nipping his skin and making him gasp.

Newt's breaths quickened as Thomas's mouth traveled down his chest, leaving a path of heat. When he ran his tongue down to Newt's navel, Newt whined pleadingly and laced his fingers into Thomas's hair. Thomas's fingers hooked into the waistband of Newt's boxers, and teasingly tugged them down only an inch. "St—stop bloody teasing me, Tommy," Newt choked out.

Thomas responded with a low growl in the back of his throat, his hold tightening on Newt's waistband. Without any warning, he tore it down Newt's legs and dragged his tongue once along Newt's length. Newt's hips lifted off the island as an awful groan escaped him. His fingertips were digging into the cool marble in search of something to keep him in check. His mind went blank as Thomas kept stroking his tongue over him, each time rougher than the last. Newt's hands shook, breath hitching. When Thomas closed his mouth over Newt at last and sucked hard, Newt's head tilted back on its own. "Tommy," he moaned out. His hips bucked up to meet Thomas's mouth, as the brunette licked and sucked at him in a way that made Newt stop breathing altogether. He was close, he knew it, his body trembling—

And Thomas pulled away. Newt opened his eyes in shock. He'd never reached his climax. He watched in disbelief as Thomas slid back up his body, dropping butterfly kisses to his middle as he did. When Thomas reached his mouth again, his lips were quirked up. "You want more?" he asked softly, his voice innocent, but his brown eyes sparking.

"Y—yes," Newt stammered, blushing at the way his voice shook.

"Then take it yourself." Thomas's smile was uncharacteristically devilish.

Newt glared at him. Thomas meant that if Newt wanted any more of this pleasure, he'd have to stop relying on Thomas to give it to him. That little shank. "You're such a bloody tease sometimes, you shank," he muttered out loud, and Thomas laughed. He wasn't laughing, however, when Newt grabbed him by the shoulders and flipped them over; he was careful to stop Thomas from hurting himself on the hard marble of the island. Then he leaned down with a smirk of dark intent playing on his lips. He stopped short of kissing Thomas fully, instead just catching his lower lip in his teeth and tugging lightly. Thomas made a low sound in the back of his throat. He started to pant as Newt hooked the brunette's legs over his shoulders.

Newt slipped his body between Thomas's legs, gripping his hips. But then he paused. And waited. Waited until the anticipation grew. Thomas bucked his hips upward in desperation. "Newt, please," he begged.

Newt could never resist when Thomas begged, so he gently pushed his hips forward and sank into Thomas for what seemed like the first time. The feeling of it made Newt whimper. He'd needed this more than he'd thought. Thomas let out a tiny cry of pleasure, one hand gripping the edge of the island, the other splayed on its surface. His chest heaved as he searched for air.

When it seemed like it was okay for him to move, Newt pulled back and then rocked his hips into Thomas again. The brunette's delicious panting and the dizzying feeling of Thomas around him made Newt want more. He couldn't help it; though he'd wanted to be gentle, he started grinding into Thomas desperately. Thomas's back arched off the island. His head was thrown back, little breathy sounds of pleasure escaping him and driving Newt wild. The blonde groaned lowly with every harsh movement. He was unable to stop. Every thrust of his body pushed Thomas up the counter, and then back down when he pulled back. The brunette was mewling now, begging deliriously. "Newt, God, please, right there." Knowing he must've found the place that would make Thomas lose his mind, Newt aimed for that spot and pushed his hips forward again and again. Thomas cried out, his body lifting to meet Newt's. Newt moaned out loud at the way Thomas slid over him, seeing stars.

They reached their end at nearly the same time; Newt's entire body shook with waves of pure bliss and Thomas let out a sound unlike any he'd made before. The brunette's muscles relaxed as he laid back on the counter, trying to catch his breath. Newt had stretch an arm out to stop himself from collapsing on top of Thomas, bracing his hand on the island. They didn't move for a long minute, remembering how to breathe again. Newt pulled back first, and Thomas exhaled sharply at the loss.

"Well," Newt managed, as he searched around for his clothes. "That was..."

"Hot," Thomas finished for him. He'd snagged his boxers from the floor and now he stepped back into them. Something like a smile tugged at his lips.

"Yeah, hot," Newt agreed, almost smiling himself. He slid off the counter to get back into his jeans, watching Thomas from the corner of his eye. Thomas looked obscenely stunning, his hair tousled in that just-had-sex way, his jeans hanging too low on his hips as he slid back into them. It was enough to make Newt's knees weak and his heart race.

"We can still watch a—" Thomas was cut off abruptly by Newt grabbing him by the waistband and pulling him into a kiss. He melted into it immediately, bringing his hands up to Newt's waist.

Newt drew back after a moment and leaned their foreheads together. "I love you," he murmured.

Thomas smiled and pecked Newt's mouth once more. "I love you too."

And of course, they still watched Titanic. And made fun of every sappy scene and heartbreaking I-love-you.

Even though they were just as in love as the characters on the screen.


End file.
